If with pleasure you are viewing Any work a man is doing; If you like him or you love him, tell him now. Don't withhold your approbation Till the preacher makes oration And he lies with snowy lilies o'er his brow. For no matter how you shout it, He won't really care about it; He won't know how many teardrops you have shed. If you think some praise is due him, Now's the time to slip it to him, For He cannot read his tombstone when he's dead.